One Week
by BeachBum84
Summary: Wilson is angry and House can't remember why. How long could Wilson really stay angry at him? House/Wilson
1. Sunday

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just a girl who writes things to try to alleviate her boredom while also hoping to entertain other people. **

**A/N: This story is sort of inspired by the song 'One Week' by Barenaked Ladies. House/Wilson slash but nothing explicit. I hope you enjoy. Please review. **

Sunday:

It was something small. I can't remember exactly what I did, that's how tiny and insignificant this event was. Whatever happened. It has Wilson furious. He's pacing in and out of rooms, randomly yelling about something.

I stand up to find out what's going on. I feel slightly woozy and I put down the beer bottle I just notice I'm still grasping. Okay, so I'm drunk. I could have said anything to piss Wilson off. I don't exactly filter my thoughts when I'm drunk... or, like ever.

I step into the kitchen and see Wilson with his hands pressed against the counter, head down.

"Go away, House. I don't want to talk to you." He sounds upset.

"What's wrong?" I ask, stumbling a little closer.

Wilson spins around. "You're kidding, right?" He asks with a tone of disbelief.

"You seem upset."

Wilson lets out a humorless laugh and brushes past me. I follow.

"You seem angry." I offer.

"I am angry!" Wilson says.

"Are you angry at me?"

Another laugh from Wilson. He turns and faces me. "Yes, House. I'm angry at you."

"But what did I do?"

Wilson shakes his head. There's the faintest twitch of a smile before he turns around. "I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch."

The couch? He can't be serious. I wander back to the livingroom. The couch looks small, and depressing, and cold, and lonely. There's a faint pain in my leg. I sit down and pop a pill. I might as well, Wilson's mad at me anyway. I finish my beer and feel sad. Wilson can't expect me to sleep out here.

No, Wilson loves me. I'm drunk, maybe I heard him wrong.

I wander down to my room. Wilson is sprawled across the bed diagonally, leaving no room for me. Maybe he was serious.

Wilson ignores me as I change into my pajamas. I stare down at him feeling annoyed. What gives him the right to get mad about something I can't even remember saying... or doing... or whatever? I sit on the edge of the bed and roughly push Wilson's legs until they are on his side of the bed.

Wilson groans and I'm angry now, too. I try to push him over a little more, but he's not budging. "Maybe you should go on a diet, you're getting a little pudgy." I say.

Wilson makes a growling noise that would have made me laugh if we weren't so angry. Wilson rolls on his side, facing away from me. He's taking most of the blankets with him.

I lay down and try to get comfortable. I wrestle some of the blankets out of his grip. We both sigh angrily.

I calm down as I'm trying to sleep. I can't believe he's mad at me. What a baby!

"Goodnight." I say softly. I frown when I get no response. Wilson's really mad at me. He's the one who always says goodnight.


	2. Monday

Monday:

Wilson was gone when I woke up this morning. I didn't see him until I got to the hospital and I only saw him then because he ran to catch the elevator not knowing that I was in it.

"Good morning, sunshine." I say to the grumpy looking Wilson. He doesn't respond.

I look at him curiously, vaguely recalling that he was mad at me before we went to sleep.

"Still mad?" I ask. Wilson crosses his arms.

"Seriously? You're not talking to me?" The elevator stopped and Wilson got off without looking at me.

I stood there stunned. I stopped the doors from closing and got off the elevator.

"Fine! Be that way!" I yell down the hallway. I storm off to my own office. He's going to be sorry. I, Gregory House, am not someone who can be ignored!

* * *

After spending a little time in my office, I cool down. Maybe I won't declare war yet. Maybe Wilson just needs a day to get his emotions in check. I start planning anyway, just in case.

It's noon and I'm hungry. I check Wilson's office. He's not there. I check the clinic. He's not there. I check the lab and some of his patients' rooms. Not there.

I wander down to the cafeteria and feel anger growing in my chest when I see Wilson having lunch with some nurse. Wilson looks like he's being charming and the nurse is leaning forward. She laughs at whatever lame joke Wilson just told. I think about ignoring him and buying myself lunch. I check my pocket and find that I don't have enough money to cover lunch. Besides, ignoring Wilson wouldn't teach him anything.

I march over to Wilson's table. I simply stick out my hand. A gesture that demands that he should give me money. Wilson glares at me and the nurse looks confused.

"Excuse me?" The nurse says.

"You're excused. You can go now." I say.

She looks offended and Wilson touches her hand. "He doesn't mean that." He tells her.

"I don't?"

Wilson raises an eyebrow, questioningly.

"I see you're still not talking to me. The least you can do is give me money for lunch since you're cheating on me with her." I say.

"Cheating? It's just lunch." The nurse says.

"Exactly. A lunch he's suppose to be having with me."

Wilson looks like he's trying not to look amused. He thinks I'm jealous. Well, I may be jealous. Just a little. That's besides the point. I'm hungry, and it's Wilson's job to make sure I eat. I hold out my hand again.

Wilson is still staring at me. "You don't want to be responsible for me starving, do you?" I ask.

Wilson shrugs and hands over his wallet. I consider it a minor victory. I walk away without a word.

"You're just giving him your wallet?" I hear the nurse ask. I look over my shoulder to see Wilson shrug.

I decided to punish Wilson by loading my lunch tray up with lots of food. I'm almost feeling content again when I get to the register. Content until I opened Wilson's wallet and found that it was empty. No money, nothing useful at all!

"Decoy wallet. That bastard." I muttered.

The cashier looks confused. "Hold this right here. I'll be right back." I say. I march over to where Wilson was sitting and discover that he's already left. Angry, I walk out of the cafeteria. Maybe I can guilt Cameron into buying me lunch.

* * *

I could hear Wilson doing something in the kitchen when I got home. I lean against the kitchen doorway and watch him. He doesn't acknowledge my presence.

"Honey, I'm home!" I say loudly in a dramatically cheerful voice. Wilson still ignores me. I watch him flip the piece of chicken he has cooking in a pan. Just one piece of chicken. Wilson makes a show of taking out one plate and placing it on the counter. He then goes to the fridge and takes out one beer. I walk over to the stove and peer into one of the pots. There's a serving of vegetables heating up. Just enough for one person.

Wilson glares at me with his arms folded across his chest. "Don't worry." I say, replacing the lid on the pot. "I'm not going to do anything to it. Even though you deserve it for that empty wallet trick you pulled at the hospital."

Wilson raises his eyebrow. He doesn't trust me. I just shrug my shoulders. "Whatever. I'm going out. I'll leave you to eat your meal in peace."

Wilson's face softens a little as I walk past him. He seems ready to cave but then he frowns, as if he's reminding himself that he's still mad at me.

"I just need to grab my wallet before I go." I say as I walk into the livingroom. I grab the cordless phone and quietly toss it under the couch . I take my wallet out of my pocket and hold it up as I pass the kitchen, to show him that I didn't take his wallet. I smile as Wilson checks his pocket for his wallet anyway.

I put on a more serious face as Wilson looks at me, confused. "I can take a hint." I say pointing to the single beer and plate sitting on the counter. I look down and distractedly tap my cane on the floor. I try to look sad and hurt as I glance at Wilson. "Don't wait up for me."

I resist the urge to see if Wilson looks remorseful as I walk away. I walk out of the apartment and wait. I give him enough time to set out his dinner. Then, I take out my cell phone and dial the number for the phone in the apartment.

I listen for Wilson walking into the livingroom before I quietly open the door. I sneak into the kitchen and see dinner for one all set out on the plate. I grab the beer and tuck it under my arm and then grab the plate of food. I peek my head out of the kitchen and I see Wilson laying on his stomach trying to reach under the couch. He just looks so cute that I stop for longer than I should.

The phone stops ringing as Wilson presses it to his ear. He looks at the caller ID and then glances up and spots me. Shit. I'm caught red handed. I bolt down the hallway as fast as I can and slam the bedroom door. I laugh when I hear Wilson bang into the door. He must have been closer than I thought.

"House! That's mine!" Wilson yells, shaking the doorknob that I'm holding so he can't get in.

"I see you're talking to me again!" I say lightly.

"House!" He yells.

I can't help but laugh. The beer slips from under my arm and drops to the floor. I stretch to put the plate of food on the dresser and use the handle of my cane to drag a chair over. I position the chair under the doorknob and pick up the fallen beer. Wilson is still pounding on the door.

"Maybe if you apologize for giving me a fake wallet at lunch, I'll let you in." I say as I open the beer.

"You're such an ass!" Wilson says from the other side of the door.

"Maybe if you say please, I'll give you your dinner back. But not the beer, the beer is mine!" I take a sip of the beer. "Mmmmmmmm, beer!"

"I hate you sometimes." Wilson says before I hear him walking away.

I grab the plate and go over to the bed. That will teach Wilson to mess with me.


	3. Tuesday

Tuesday:

I was dreaming a wonderful dream. It involved chocolate and Wilson and whipped cream, mmmmmmm... It was a fabulous dream. That is, until someone rudely pulled me away from my very delicious dream by making a lot of noise.

I open my eyes, the clock says 6am. I groan loudly and look around to try and find the source of the loud noise.

I discover the source by the door. The doorknob falls off, bouncing off the chair and onto the floor. I sit up and watch the door curiously. Something is pushing it open. Well, s_omeone_ is. I see Wilson's arm as he reaches around the door. The door is just barely open enough for him to do this. I hear him groan loudly as he reaches around blindly. It's everything I have not to laugh. His hand finally connects with the chair and he pushes it out of the way. The door swings open.

"Good Morning." I say with what I'm sure is a very amused expression on my face.

Wilson looks surprised to see me awake. He's holding a screwdriver in one hand. It would look slightly menacing if his mouth wasn't hanging open. He closes his mouth and puts the screwdriver on the dresser. Then, he goes to the closet without saying a word.

"I'm sorry, Greg, for waking you at this ungodly hour and for breaking your door." I offer. I swear, I'm just trying to be helpful, not sarcastic... Okay, maybe I'm being a little sarcastic.

Wilson sighs. "I'm sorry, _House_, that you're an asshole that locked me out of _our_ room. Thus, forcing me to break _our_ bedroom door so I can get clean clothes so _I_ can look presentable for work."

"I get the feeling that that wasn't a sincere apology."

Wilson ignores me as he pulls some clothes out of the closet.

"You know, maybe if you apologized then things could go back to normal."

Wilson spins around. "Me? I should apologize? This is all your fault!!"

"My fault? Why?"

"You should know why!" Wilson exclaims, turning back to the closet.

"Oh, come on! That's not fair. Look, it's early. There's still a lot of time before we have to go to work. Maybe we could kiss and make up. And by 'kiss and make up' I mean 'have crazy hot sex for the next few hours.'"

"You're unbelieveable, House." Wilson says, walking out with his clothes.

"So that's a no?"

* * *

"So, what did you find out?" I ask, looking around the conference room.

"That Wilson is pissed off at you." Foreman says.

"Yeah, yeah. I figured that out all on my own. But why is he pissed off at me?"

The three of them shrug. "He didn't say." Chase says.

"He seemed suspicious." Cameron says.

"I told you guys to be subtle. Stealthy. You had one mission! What's the purpose of having minions if you guys can't complete a simple mission!" I say, pacing around the room. "I mean, I send you guys over there with a case that is clearly cancer so Wilson would start with all the cancer talk._ Then_, with his guard down because he's so focused on the patient, you guys were suppose to subtly ask questions and collect clues. He answers more honestly when he's distracted because he doesn't have the brainpower to filter his responses at the same time."

"I suppose saying, 'Hey, Wilson, tell us why are you pissed at House so we can stop playing games and actually treat patients?' was the wrong way to go?"

I point my cane at Foreman accusingly. "I will fire you if that's what you really said. What point of 'be subtle and stealthy' didn't you understand?"

"He didn't say that." Cameron says.

I turn my cane to Cameron. "You would say that." I put my cane down and turn to Chase. "You play my games because you value your job. Was Foreman that obvious?"

"No. We were very subtle." Chase says. I raise my eyebrow. "And stealthy." Chase mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Then why did you guys fail?"

"Have you thought that maybe this isn't our fault? That maybe you should remember why people are pissed at you?" Cameron asks.

"I'd have no room in my brain for anything else if I had to keep track of that!!"

Foreman sighs loudly. "Look, Wilson was suspicious and it wasn't our fault. I mean, the man has known you for how long? We're _your_ team and we were asking opinion on what is, like you said, clearly a cancer case. We should have just handed over the case. It shouldn't have taken three of us."

"Fine. Go off and find a case that is less clear. Find someone that has symptoms that could be explained by paraneoplastic syndrome. Even better if they have cancer, because then we won't have to deal with them."

"Wouldn't they have to already be diagnosed for us to know that they have cancer and it really is paraneoplastic?" Cameron asks, looking confused.

"Details, Details." I say waving my hand dismissively. "Whatever. Go forth and find all the patients with headaches or something. Maybe they'll have a brain tumor or something."

"You want us to go find cancer patients to dump on Wilson? Why don't we start blasting radiation at people so they develop cancer and give him hundreds of more patients. Increasing his work load like that will certainly make him forgive you!" Foreman says, dramatically.

"Don't mock my plans! Though, maybe I am going about this wrong. Okay, go amuse yourselves elsewhere. I have some plotting to do."

After they leave, I go to my office. I sit down and prop my feet up on the desk. I have a feeling that this may take a while. I try to plan out what I'm going to say, because I know it will take a lot of convincing to make this work. Oh well, I'll just wing it. I pick up the phone and dial.

"Hello?" I'm surprised she didn't recognize the number and ignore the call.

"Hey, Julie. It's Greg... Yeah, Greg House... look, don't hang up. I wouldn't call unless it was important." I start twirling my cane, starting to feel like some sort of movie villian. "Yes, important by other people's standards... I'm worried about Wilson..."

* * *

**A/N: Paraneoplastic is my favourite work ever. Anyway, I had trouble writing this chapter at first because of how awkward it is to write in the tense I'm writing this story in. I was tempted to change the tense all together but inspiration hit and I was able to make it work. So, this note is just to say that I recognize that some people find it awkward to read things written in the present tense. It's sort of awkward to write too, but for some reason, that's the tense I prefer sometimes. **

**I apologize for any awkwardness there may be in the story due to the tense. I hope you like the story so far, and Thanks to everyone that has reviewed so far! **

**(PS. Think I used the word awkward enough? lol)**


	4. Wednesday

**A/N: In response to a review: Yes, I saw the House/Wilson video for the song 'One Week' on YouTube. Isn't it great? I totally forgot to credit that video for being part of the inspiration for this story. If you haven't seen the video, go check it out. It's brillant. Seeing Wilson angry makes my day, it's so amusing most of the time. **

**Thanks for everyone else who reviewed. I appreciate it a lot!**

* * *

Wednesday:

The clock had just flipped to 12:01 when the apartment door slammed. Maybe, just maybe, calling Julie hadn't been the greatest idea.

I decide the best course of action is to lay very very still. I pull the covers over my head and try not to breathe. I hear Wilson's stomps come closer until he's in the bedroom.

"I know you're not sleeping. Get up so I can yell at you!!" Wilson screams.

"Yeah, that's great motivation. Next, tell me how you're gonna kick the crap out of me. That will really make me do what you want." I mutter sarcastically from beneath the blankets.

"Get up!" Wilson yells, pulling the blankets away roughly.

I sit up. "What? You can't yell at me unless I'm sitting up?" I'm not really sure why I'm yelling, except for the fact that Wilson's yelling. At least this time I know why he's angry.

Wilson looks stunned for a moment and I start to lay back down, thinking I've somehow one.

"She's my ex-wife!!" Wilson yells.

I sit back up. "And?"

"AND... she's my EX-WIFE!!"

"Yes, I know who she is."

Wilson sighs and starts pacing the room, waving his arms dramatically as he goes. "What made you think... what possibly could have possibly been going through your head... what... why... UGH!!!!" Wilson turns to me. "Why did you call Julie?"

I shrug. Because I really don't have a better answer.

"So it was just some whim? You were just thinking, 'Let's call my boyfriend's ex-wife and cause trouble! It'll be a hoot. Fun and games for all!'"

I smile when I hear 'my boyfriend.' It's not often that we say that word in relation to our situation.

"And your smiling..." Wilson sounds defeated.

"Sorry. You were saying... fun and games for all?" I gestured for him to continue his rant.

He sits down on the chair. I think I've broken him. He's looking down and I frown. Maybe I've gone too far. But how will I ever know the limits unless I test them? "So... Did Julie have anything interesting to say?" I ask, just to see if I can get a reaction from him.

Wilson jumps up. "She told me that there are lots of places I can go to get 'help'"

"Help?" I ask innocently. Trying to control my laughter. The look on Wilson's face is priceless, and the way he jumped up... it's like I pulled a string on a toy.

"Don't act like you don't know!" Wilson yells, pointing at me accusingly. "You told her that I was a drug addict! She wouldn't believe me when I told her I wasn't. She said it explained a lot actually. Why I was so absent. Why I would come home late every night. Why I would zone out while I was talking to her."

"Well, your drug abuse would explain those things..." I say, almost choking on my laughter.

"My drug abuse... You're really sick, you know that. You're the one with the drug problem... not me!! Why tell her that? Why tell her that I was ready to get help and go back to her?"

"Well, it was either a lie, or tell her the truth."

"What truth?" Wilson's anger dissolves momentarily into a look of curiosity.

"That your marriage fell apart because you were sleeping with me the entire time... that would have gotten her angry, and maybe she would have yelled for an hour..."

"But you thought a 4 hour lecture about my 'behaviour' would be more appropriate? I'm still not understanding the logic behind it. I suffer and... Never mind. I don't care anymore. I just don't care!" Wilson storms out.

I sit there stunned for a moment. Not that I really knew how this would play out when I called Julie. Damn, this was as bad as my 'drown Wilson in cancer patients' idea. Maybe I should have ran this one past the team. I'll just have to repress this whole day, I can't have a failed plan on my mind. It would get in the way of my 'I'm brilliant and do no wrong' system of belief. I wander down the hall to check on Wilson.

I find him curled on the couch with a blanket.

"Go away, House."

I don't move. I can't think of what to say.

"Go to your room."

I turn, feeling like I'm being grounded. I curl up in my empty bed. Maybe in the morning Wilson will forgive me.

* * *

The alarm clock goes off way too early for my liking. I reach blindly until I feel a medicine bottle in my hand. I shake it and it sounds sort of... empty. I open my eyes and see one pill sitting at the bottom of the bottle. Weird, I thought I had more than that. I swallow the pill. I guess I'll have to go to work to get more. 

Wilson is long gone but the smell of pancakes still lingers in the air. It makes me sad. I guess Wilson hasn't forgiven me yet.

* * *

By time I get to work, my leg is really bothering me. The problem is, I can't find my Vicodin. I mean none. There's none in my desk. None in any of my usual hiding places. 

I'm frantically looking around the conference room and I hear a small chuckle. I glance up and see Wilson standing in the doorway. "Lose something?" He asks, casually.

I'm left speechless. Wilson has a smirk on his face as he turns and walks away. It hits me in a weird place in my chest and it hurts more than the pain in my leg. Is this what Wilson feels when I give him that look?

I grit my teeth as I stand up. I don't care. If Wilson doesn't care, then neither do I. I'm cursing his name a few hours later. I wish I had never met him. I'm ready to go home and throw all of his things out of MY apartment. I can't seem to find my team anywhere. Not that I really looked too hard for them. I'm not in the mood for the 'House has a drug problem' debate, and I'm not looking to beg them for Vicodin.

I make my way to Cuddy's office. I burst in as usual without any regard for the other person sitting in the office. "Look, I'm not in the mood for the usually banter. Let's just imagine I made the obligatory remark about your breasts and..." Everything goes still as the person sitting on the other side of Cuddy's desk looks at me. She gives a weak smile and I lose my train of thought.

"You look like hell. What happened?" Cuddy asks.

"Lover's quarrel." I say. I finally break eye contact with the last person I needed to see at the moment and look at Cuddy. "I need a script for Vicodin."

"What happened?"

"I broke his favourite toy so he took away mines..."

Cuddy waved her hand so I would stop my analogy. She opens her desk drawer and pulls out her prescription pad. "I said I was supportive of your lifestyle as long as it doesn't interfere with your work here..."

"I'll be fine..." I say softly and Cuddy looks surprised. She gives me a questioning look and I feel embarrassed for sounding so vulnerable. I try to act like myself again. "Thanks, boss. You look less desperate than usual today." I say as I walk out with my prescription.

I slam the prescription on the pharmacy counter. "Fill it up."

The pharmacist rolls his eyes and I release the breathe I didn't know I was holding.

"Hey, Greg." A voice from behind says.

I close my eyes. "Not now. I'm not properly medicated."

"Please. I haven't seen you look so... since... I'm worried." She gently touched my arm and I backed away.

"He called you, didn't he? Did he tell you that I'm a crack addict now? Or did he just ask you to dress nice and walk around here, hoping I would see you?"

"What? Who?" Stacy looks hurt and confused.

"Wilson... He..." I'm distracted by the full medicine bottle dropping on the counter in front of me. I pop two pills.

"I'm here because my niece is looking at colleges. She's interested in going into medicine so I was asking Lisa if she would talk to her. Maybe give her a tour or something..."

"Stacy. I didn't know you were here. How are...?" The question dies off as Wilson glances at me.

"Well played. I love the look of surprise. Very convincing." I comment.

"I'll talk to you later." Wilson says to Stacy. I notice him stop and look back at us. He looks concerned.

"I heard that... Good for you guys..." Stacy says awkwardly.

"Yeah, don't be too happy. I'm not sure it's going to last."

"Greg..." She seems to be searching for the right words.

"Look... I hope your niece doesn't get too scared talking to Cuddy."

Stacy nods. She kisses my cheek. "Call me if you need anything." She says softly.

I give a weak smile. "We both know I won't."

* * *

I'm miserable when I get home. I just sit on the couch and wait for the Vicodin to reach the optimal level of numbness. I tense when I hear the door open and close. 

Wilson walks in quietly. I glance over the back of the couch to see him walk in looking like a wounded puppy. I lay back down.

Wilson comes closer and I pull away when he kneels next to the couch and brushes his fingers against my arm. He sighs and stands up. He sets a paper bag on my chest. He moves to walk away but pauses. "I swear, Greg. I didn't call her. I wouldn't..." He sighs and walks away.

I wait until I hear the bedroom door closes before looking in the bag. It's full of medicine bottles filled with my missing stash. I believe Wilson didn't call Stacy. I'm just not ready to let go of my anger yet. I fall into a restless sleep, hugging the bag of pills close to my chest.


	5. Thursday

Thursday: 

What a miserable day. I can hear the rain tapping against the window as I stare at the white board full of symptoms. I turn and toss the marker to Chase. He looks confused. I sit down at the table. Chase still hasn't moved.

"Your turn." I say. Finally, Chase moves to the board. He stares at the symptoms and then starts talking. I'm just barely listening to him. All I can really focus on is the rain. I wonder if the rain is depressing Wilson as much as it's depressing me. He looked horrible when I saw him this morning. Though he probably looks better than I do. I'm the one who slept on the couch last night.

"Next." I say. The few words I actually heard Chase say didn't sound interesting. Chase tossed the marker to Cameron.

I'm not really listening to her either. Why can't they just say one word that would explain these symptoms? They always have to explain why they think it could be this or that.

"Next." I say, resting my head on the table.

It wasn't until Foreman's second turn that I heard him say something interesting. I lift my head off the table. "Yeah, go do that."

Foreman looks surprised but doesn't say anything. He leaves the room and Chase follows him. Cameron is looking at me. "Shouldn't you be treating the patient?" I ask.

"If you want to talk, I'll listen." She says gently.

I know I'm in bad shape because I can't think of anything sarcastic to say. "Just go treat the patient."

She stands up and touches my shoulder gently. "Sometimes... apologizing helps... even if the other person was wrong too."

"I shouldn't have to apologize." I say. I frown at the small whine in my voice.

"I think you know that you're the one who started this. Maybe if you had apologized in the first place like you should have..."

"Besides the point." I say, waving my hand dismissively.

Cameron sighs. "Maybe he's just tired of being the only one who ever apologizes."

I silently put my head back on the table and Cameron leaves.

* * *

When I get home, Wilson is watching TV on the couch. I silently sit at the other end of the couch. We don't say anything, though Wilson opens his mouth a couple of times. He can't find the right words, I guess, because he kept closing him mouth.

I think about apologizing a couple of times. I don't get as far as Wilson because I can't seem to open my mouth to free the words.

Around ten I decide to give up. It's not that the room is tense, it's just that I can feel Wilson's depression and it's distracting me from my own depressed feelings. It's all too much.

Wilson gives me a hopeful look as I pass. He's silently asking if it's okay for us to sleep in the same bed again. I look at the empty bed. I do miss Wilson sleeping next to me. I think about what Cameron said and sigh. I gather a blanket and a pillow and walk back out to the living room.

Wilson looks confused as he watches me. I drop the pillow and blanket on his lap and then go back to my room.

I hate that hurt look that he gave me, but I'm not ready. I pop two Vicodin and wait for that calm numbness to set in. It's not so much that my leg is bothering me, but that empty feeling in my chest is just too painful to bear. I just don't want to be the one to apologize first.


	6. Friday

**A/N: Yeah, so this story was this cute and funny idea I had. Uutil I started writing it. It totally evolved from my original vision, but I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. Thank you for all the reviews so far! **

**Warning: This chapter is sort of mature. I don't think it's _too_ bad, but I'm just warning you. I kinda struggled with how far to take it. So, let me know what you think!**

* * *

Friday: 

I wake up to the smell of pancakes. Wilson is just finishing eating when I enter the kitchen. He glances at me. "Good morning."

"Morning." I say, pouring a cup of coffee.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wilson smile. It's the first words we've said to each other since Wednesday.

"I left you some pancakes." Wilson says, pointing to the plate next to the stove.

"Thanks." I'm a little surprised but I accept it as the opening negotiations of a peace offering. Pancakes won't win me over that easy. I take a bite. "Oh my..."

Wilson smiles smugly as he puts his dishes in the sink. "I'll see you later"

* * *

Work was a lot less tense than it has been. Wilson and I actually acknowledged each other. When I get home, I decide to move on to step two of the peace negotiations.

"Let's go." I say as soon as I enter the apartment. Wilson looks at me curiously from the couch.

I'm halfway down the hall before I ask, "Aren't you coming?" I smile when I hear Wilson hurry off the couch.

I let my coat fall to the floor. I toss my cane to the side as well. Wilson stands and watches me silently.

"So..." Wilson looks confused.

"Wanna have sex?" I kick off my shoes and socks.

"What?"

I roll my eyes. "Sex. I want to have sex. I'm asking if you would like to join me in this activity."

"Shouldn't... Shouldn't we talk...or something first?"

I push Wilson on the bed and kiss him roughly. I start unbuttoning his shirt. "Why? So we can both say we're sorry when we don't mean it? Let's skip that."

Wilson pushes me away. "What does this mean though?"

I sigh and take my shirt off. "I don't care. We'll figure it out afterwards!"

"But..." Wilson seems to be struggling with words as I unbutton his pants. I pull his pants off him. "We... should...We can't go on like this."

I grin wickedly. "I know." I tease Wilson lightly through his boxers. "These... get in the way. They just have to go."

Wilson closes his eyes. I consider it a victory and I pull his boxers off. I rest my hand on his chest and kiss him. "I hate you sometimes..." Wilson mutters.

I smile. "How 'bout now?"

"The jury is still out."

I slide my hand lower. "How 'bout now?" I ask teasingly.

Wilson gasps. "I win." I say softly in Wilson's ear.

Wilson's eyes open and he smiles. "I don't think so." With those words, Wilson moves and pins me to the bed, kissing me so hard that it takes my breath away.

* * *

"Oh my..." I pant.

Wilson glances at the clock. "It's almost midnight." He says, sounding amazed.

"It's good to know that you were as pent up with sexual energy as I was."

"Are you kidding? I'm surprised you were able to keep up with me." Wilson laughed.

I try my best to look offended but fail. "I actually popped a couple of extra Vicodins before I came in." I admit.

"So, I win. Right?" Wilson asks, nonchalantly.

"Are you insane? I totally win!"

Wilson laughs. "You can't keep your hands off me." He teases.

I lay on my side and prop myself up on my elbow and stare at Wilson. "Me? You're the one who wanted to _talk_! I reduced you to a blubbering idiot with just one touch!"

"But you initiated this. You need me."

"Hey! I could have done this on my own. I was being kind when I invited you to join!"

"Yes, because you're so generous!" Wilson says sarcastically. Wilson kisses me, his lips are still brushing against mine when he says, "It has nothing to do with what I can do?"

Now it's my turn to be speechless. I have to admit if I had to choose what I loved most about Wilson in bed, it would have to be what he can do with that mouth.

"I thought so." Wilson says at my speechlessness. Wilson looks like he's getting comfortable to go to sleep.

"No, I don't think so. Back to the couch with you." I say, forcibly pushing off the bed. He lands on the floor with a loud thud and a stream of obscenities.

"What? I thought..." Wilson says.

"I said we'd see afterwards."

"This is why I wanted to talk!" Wilson yells, putting his boxers back on. "You said we were skipping the meaningless apologies."

"That doesn't mean I would ignore a sincere apology." I point out.

Wilson gives me a look of complete disbelief. "You started this! I'm the one who should be demanding an apology from you!"

I just shrug and move so I'm laying diagonally across the bed. I make a content noise and close my eyes.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what happened." Wilson says softly.

I open my eyes and look at him. "I know you are." I say truthfully. I could tell the moment he saw Stacy that he was sorry. He was probably sorry for taking my pills even before he saw me.

Wilson blinks at me. "I'm still not letting you back in bed." I say, nonchalantly. I wrap the blanket tighter around me and close my eyes. It'll be easier to sleep without him in bed next to me now that his pillow smells like him again.

I can't help but smile when I hear Wilson make a frustrated noise and stomp down the hallway. "That's the last time I have sex with that jerk without negotiating the terms first!" Wilson mutters as he leaves.


	7. Saturday

Saturday: 

It's just after 8am when I quietly stalk into the living room. Normally, I wouldn't be up this early on a Saturday, but I'm on a mission. A very secret mission. I'm glad Wilson is still asleep, I must have really wore him out last night.

I gently place Wilson's hand into the bowl of warm water I just placed next to him. I hate repeating things, I don't want to become predictable. This will have to do though, I'm pressed for time and this will keep him busy for a while if he wakes up before I get home.

* * *

It's just after 11am when I return to my apartment.

"Greg! Is that you?" I hear from down the hall.

"Yes, James. I'm home!" I quickly go to the bedroom and hide my purchase in the closet.

"Could you possibly tell me why you find so much amusement in making me wet myself in my sleep?"

I pop a couple of Vicodins before leaving the bedroom. "Amusement? I'm not amused. The whole apartment smells like piss now."

Wilson appears in the bathroom doorway. He raises his eyebrow when he looks at me. Like he's going to figure something out by studying me.

"Besides, I don't like what your implying here. What makes you think I did anything? Maybe you have some bladder control problem. Good thing I did kick you to the couch. I don't want to wake up in a puddle of pee."

"I don't have a bladder control problem! I'm not the one who stuck my hand in warm water!" Wilson exclaims.

"That means someone broke into the apartment. You didn't lock the door last night?"

"You were to last one to come in last night!"

"But you're suppose to be the responsible one. What if someone breaks into the apartment and kidnaps me while your busy wetting the couch and not locking doors?" It was really hard to say that with a straight face.

It was worth it though because Wilson shakes his head and laughs. "Who would want to kidnap you?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I have a lot of enemies. It could happen."

"Maybe if you were nicer to people..."

"Totally over-rated. It's easier to just keep you around to protect me from any kidnapping attempts."

Wilson kisses me. "Is that the only reason you keep me around?"

"Yeah, it's certainly not because you're house broken."

Wilson laughs. "I think we need to buy a new couch."

"No, you need to buy a new couch. You made it smell, you're buying."

"You needed a new couch long before now."

I just shrug and Wilson frowns. "You're not coming with me? I never picked out a couch before."

"Fine, I'll come, but only because this place stinks."

Wilson rolls his eyes. "Stop exaggerating. The couch smells a little. Everything else is cleaned up"

* * *

After a few hours of couch shopping, we return to the apartment feeling exhausted. The delivery guys took the old couch away and brought in the new one.

I let myself fall on the couch and pop some Vicodin. "This is like the most comfortable thing I've ever sat in."

Wilson sits down next to me. "This is a lot better than the other couch."

"Just don't wet this one."

Wilson sighs. "It's your fault." He mutters as he leans his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I say. I put my arm around Wilson's shoulders and pull him a little closer.

"My back hurts." Wilson says sadly.

"Want some Vicodin?"

Wilson shakes his head.

"Want me to feel sympathy for you?"

"It would be nice."

I chuckle. "Fine. Get up."

Wilson looks surprised. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously."

Wilson stands up and I turn on the couch. I rest my back against the arm of the couch. I stretch my left leg along the back of the couch. Then, I motion for Wilson to sit down.

Wilson sits with his back facing me. "Are you comfortable?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm all drugged up. I feel fine." I say as I put my hands on his shoulders.

I feel Wilson start to relax almost instantly. "Take off your shirt." I order.

Wilson just raises his arms up.

I roll my eyes and reach for the hem of his shirt. "You're so spoiled." I say as I pull the shirt above his head.

"Yes, because you are normally so caring." Wilson says sarcastically.

I toss the shirt to the floor. I reach out and rub Wilson's shoulders. "You know, I'm only doing this so you'll be fit enough for some mind blowing sex later, right?"

"I figured it must be because of something like that. Last night wasn't enough for you?"

I smile when I feel Wilson shiver under my touch. "Fine, if last night was enough to satisfy you, I can find sex elsewhere."

"Don't even joke about that."

I gently kiss Wilson's neck. "You know I only have eyes for you."

"Are you trying to say that you love me?"

I gently move my hands across Wilson's skin as I wrap my arms around him. I rest my chin on his shoulder. "I love you." I whisper softly, my lips brushing against his ear.

Wilson closes his eyes and it sounds like his breath catches for a moment. "Does that mean I get to sleep in bed with you tonight?"


	8. Sunday morning

Sunday: 

I breathe in deeply. Wilson's head is resting on my chest, his right arm is laying across my stomach, his right leg resting comfortably over mine. We're just a tangle of limbs and I'm content.

"I missed you this week." Wilson says softly.

"Yeah?" Only one more thing could make this perfect. I reach over to the nightstand, I'm careful not to disturb Wilson. I grab the pill bottle and dump out two pills before replacing the bottle on the nightstand.

"Yeah." Wilson lightly traces his fingers over my stomach, like he's making invisible patterns. "My knees are bruised from when you pushed me off the bed the other night."

I pop the two pills in my mouth. I swallow them dry. "You never should have touched my pills."

"Well, you called my ex-wife."

"I ended up having to deal with my ex too."

"But I didn't call her. That was just an awful coincidence." Wilson looks up at me. "Why did you call Julie?"

"Because you gave me a decoy wallet. You sneaky bastard."

Wilson smirks, "Yeah, I was kinda proud of myself for that one. But you ended up getting free lunch from Cameron."

"That's because Cameron actually loves me enough to feed me."

I feel Wilson's grip on me tighten a little. "She can't have you. You're mine."

I run my fingers through Wilson's hair. "You're cute when your jealous."

"I'm cute all the time." Wilson says matter-of-factly. "So, why did you call Julie?"

"Because you weren't talking to me. How am I suppose to know what's wrong if you don't talk to me?"

"You could have asked me."

"I sent my minions!"

"Yeah, that was the lamest information gathering attempt I ever saw. I think I stopped loving you for a moment. I thought you were more clever than to send an obvious cancer case my way."

"You stopped loving me?"

Wilson looks thoughtful for a moment. "No, I would have to love you to begin with to stop loving you."

I make my best insulted face and give Wilson a playful shove. "Get out of my bed, you bastard. You don't love me? I feel so used." I say over-dramatically.

Wilson laughs and moves closer to me. "Yes, Greg. I use you only for the mind blowing sex."

"I knew it." I say, pouting my bottom lip out.

Wilson kisses me. "I love you."

"Yeah, sure." I roll my eyes.

"I do. You love me, too."

I pull Wilson so his head's resting on my chest again. "I must. I'm keeping you around even though you broke my bedroom door."

"_Our_ bedroom door." Wilson corrects me. "Besides, I needed to get clothes. One of us has to look presentable."

"I wouldn't insult me. I could still kick you out."

"You also stole my dinner, that wasn't nice."

"Right... that was your punishment for the decoy wallet, not the phone call..." I try to think of what came before that. "Why did you give me a decoy wallet?"

"Because I was mad at you."

"Why were you mad at me?"

Wilson rests his head on his pillow and pulls away from me. He's pouting.

"Don't start. We just got back to talking to each other again." I say, feeling annoyed at how Wilson's acting.

"You should know."

"I was drunk. That's all I remember about last Sunday! I was drunk and then, all of a sudden, you start yelling at me!"

Wilson pouts a little more and I can't help but laugh. "Come on." I say, gently rubbing his arm. "Stop acting like a girl and tell me what's bothering you."

Wilson mumbles something and I can't pick out any of the words.

"Speak up." I'm curious about why he's so moody. A thought suddenly hits me and I think I know why he's upset. I really hope he says what I think he's going to say. This is going to be priceless!

"You're smiling." Wilson says, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

"That's because I can't look at you without smiling." I say quickly. Wilson rolls his eyes. "Come on, tell me why you're so cranky lately."

"You forgot our anniversary." Wilson mumbles.

I burst out laughing. I can't help it. "You... You've been mad at me all week because you think _I_ forgot our anniversary?" I can barely breathe, I'm laughing so hard.

Wilson looks annoyed as he sits up. "Well, six months seemed like it would be a big deal considering..." He looks at me curiously, "What do you mean I think you forgot? You did forget."

My laughter subsides a little. "You're an idiot!" I exclaim.

Wilson looks hurt. "You forget our anniversary and I'm an idiot?"

I sit up. I take a deep breath and stop laughing altogether. "Yes. Because last week wasn't our anniversary. Today is and you're an idiot."

Wilson eyes go wide and it's a priceless expression. "No." He jumps out of bed and goes searching for a calender.

I start laughing at the sight of Wilson standing in his blue boxers and pointing to the calender he just retrieved from the kitchen. "Last week was the 10th." He says pointing to the box marked the 10th.

"I'm glad you can read a calender. Too bad our anniversary is on the 17th."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie about this? To get myself out of trouble? We already made up."

Wilson frowns and he looks at the calender again.

"Fine, if you really don't believe me, go check your journal. You keep it super organized and you would be able to tell if I tampered with it. Six months ago today you wrote an entry about how you moved in here and how it's the start of our life together blah blah mushy stuff. We agreed that our anniversary was the day you moved in because everything before that was awkward realizations and such."

Wilson nods and moves to go get his journal. He pauses in the doorway. "You read my journal?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't act surprised!"

Wilson returns a few minutes later. He sits on the edge of the bed and starts flipping through the pages. I move so I can read over his shoulder. "Oh... would you look at that." I say pointing to the date on the page. "I can't believe I'm moving in with House. Well, that's not really the surprise, it's the reason behind the move that is surprising..." I start to read from the page.

Wilson's head drops. "I'm an idiot."

I kiss his neck. "Sure, but you're _my_ idiot." I look at the bruises on Wilson's knees. "I guess you kinda deserve though, for starting trouble all week for nothing." I poke one of the bruises and it makes Wilson flinch.

"I had a right to be mad."

"Yeah, but you were a week early. Besides, I didn't forget, I even got you a present." I poke another one of Wilson's bruises.

Wilson flinches again and moves away from me. "That hurts!"

I poke him again. "You deserve it. This is all your fault."

"Fine! I'm sorry!"

I poke Wilson's knee harder. "Cameron told me that I should apologize, I almost listened to her!"

Wilson curls up to try to protect his legs from the relentless poking. "Stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

I chuckle. "You're an idiot." I get up and go to the closet. I retrieve Wilson's present from it's hiding place.

Wilson uncurls himself and looks at the present curiously.

"It's not going to bite." I say, waving the bag in front of his face.

Wilson opens the bag and pulls out a book. He flips through it. "A new journal."

I shrug. "Your old one is almost out of fresh pages. And... I like reading what you think about me and us. So, I was hoping if you got a new journal, you would keep writing..."

"Greg, I can't believe..." Wilson sighs. "I'm such an idiot. I'm really sorry about this week."

"It's alright. I still love you." I lean over and kiss him gently. "Happy anniversary, James."

* * *

**A/N: So I was debating since I started writing the story whether or not I would say what started the fighting. I really like how this chapter turned out. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback. I had a lot of fun writing so I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. **

**The End. **


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